Dead Man's Hand (Vegas Underground 7)

Paolo’s leaning against a crate, a pistol held casually in his hand, resting on his thigh. My grandfather is squared off to him in the middle of the storeroom.

“Cazzo.” Paolo immediately stuffs the gun in the back of his pants like he doesn’t want me to see it.

“Know what?” I repeat.

Paolo lifts his chin at my grandfather. “Tell her.”

My palms sweat. My breath is shaky. “Tell me what, Nonno?” I’m already close to tears.

My grandfather’s chin juts out. “I told Gio to stay away from you or I’d go to the cops with evidence I’ve collected over the years.”

My lower lip starts to tremble, but it’s anger that fills my gut. “Why, Nonno?”

“Why? Because that man is trouble for you. He’s violent. You saw what he did to your old boss.”

“Gio protected me. He saved me from being molested by that boss by buying the restaurant and firing him. And then he saved my life when Arnie showed up here for revenge. Just like he saved our family when Mia needed her surgery. So, if you get that Gio’s anything but the hero in this story—in my story—then I don’t think you care about me at all.” Hot, angry tears course down my face.

Now I understand why Lori used that tone of accusation when she told my grandparents how heartbroken I was. They must all know what Nonno did.

How could they?

The sense of betrayal cleaves me in two.

Nonno spreads his hands. For the first time, he looks uncertain. “Marissa, of course I care about you.”

I rip off my apron. “I’m done. I work my ass off to take care of everyone in this family and when I finally find someone who wants to take care of me, this is what you do to him.” I throw the apron on the floor. “Well, I won’t have it. If you don’t destroy every bit of that evidence and make things right with the man I love, you’ll never see me again.”

It’s an insane thing to say. Especially for me—the person so terrified of being abandoned by the people she loves. For me to threaten the end of our relationship is nuts.

But I mean every word of it. I’m not going to let them keep me from the one shot I had at a decent, loving relationship.

“Where are you going?” Nonno calls to my back as I march out the door to the alleyway.

“To see Gio,” I mutter.

I’m halfway to the L stop when a gorgeous Porsche 911 pulls up beside me. “I’ll drive you, Marissa.” It’s Paolo.

No more Miss Independent. It’s time to accept help when it’s offered. Accept and appreciate. I climb in. “Thanks.”

“No problem. Listen…” He pauses like he’s not sure what to say.

My anger with my grandfather clears enough for me to realize he’s in danger.

“He won’t turn the evidence in, Paolo,” I say quickly. “I’m sure of it. If he really wanted to take anyone down, he would’ve done it years ago. It was insurance for a moment like this.”

“Yeah, I was thinking the same thing. It was a bluff. He’s got too much to lose.” Paolo shoots me a glance. “I was going to tell you not to worry about him. I would never harm the old man or anyone in your family. Okay?”

“Because Gio cares about me?”

“For sure because of that. But even if he didn’t, our families have history. Like you said, your grandfather could’ve turned those in years ago, but he didn’t. And you covered for us when the bratva wanted to kill us all. You tried to warn us. I’m not going to throw that away over an old man getting cantankerous.”

I let out a little puff of air. “Cantankerous. You’re a lot more forgiving than I’m feeling right now.” I look at his profile. He looks like Gio, only the energy is tougher. Meaner. He’s thicker through the shoulders, and the lines on his face make him appear more rugged. “Thank you for trying to fix this, Paolo.” I reel, thinking about how different my life might look if I’d never found out the truth. If I went through life thinking Gio threw me away. I never would’ve trusted in love again. I would’ve barricaded my heart up even tighter and never let someone in. Instead, right now my heart’s been rent in two, emotion gushing out on all sides.

“Marissa… Gio may not be in a fit state to talk when you get there.”

Alarm kicks through me. Of course Gio’s suffered, too. “What do you mean?”

“I mean, he was pretty broken up over losing you, doll. Just cut him some slack if he’s not presentable.”

My mind races over how I can contribute to Gio. What would make up for these horrible weeks of being apart.

“Um… can we… do you mind making a stop? I-I’d like to bring some groceries over.”